As I’m sitting here on New Years Eve, 2011, pondering the events of the past year, I find myself feeling decidedly empty.  I haven’t ever been in this particular place before, especially at the beginning of a new year.  The house that is my soul has been burned out, the dozer has been here to push it all into a pile and the Mack truck that hit me has taken away all the debris.  This property is now ready for the new owner.  Who that is, I don’t know yet.  I guess she moves in tomorrow.

Last year was one of the best years of my life and also one of the worst.  The highs were exceedingly high, the lows the lowest I can remember.  I made several new friends, some of them I am sure to keep for the rest of my life, they’ve become that important in such a short time.  I opened myself up to closer connections with some of my oldest friends and I discovered who my real friends were.  I allowed myself to accept support and lean on those friendships when I needed to.  I put some distance between myself and some people who were taking up space and weren’t adding value to my life, and I’m good with that decision.

I fell in love twice, hard.  The first time I lost my sense of self.  The second time I found it again.  I experienced an unusually thick soup of synchronicity, catharsis and growth both times.   I loved deeper and more openly than I ever had before.  I accepted love, I embraced loving, I gave freely.  I fell in love with someone’s children and it ripped my heart out when we broke up, x4.  I laid my soul bare, I shared my pain and was met with acceptance.  I extended some boundaries and I set some new ones.  I had the best sex of my life.  I lived in the moment when I remembered to and was grateful for the little things that made those relationships beautiful.  I wrote them down so I wouldn’t forget how I felt when I was loved.  I resolved to love unconditionally and in my heart I did.  My mind got to me a few times though.  I made some mistakes.  I disconnected and fed the ego some things that weren’t good for me.  Something interceded and saved me from holding on to either of them too long and I’m grateful for that.  They both looked fantastic on paper but my intuition was telling me different and I didn’t listen to it.  Now I know.  Both of those highly charged relationships ended as friendships.  Both of those men taught me priceless things that I wouldn’t have learned if I hadn’t known them, hadn’t allowed myself to go that deep.  I’m forever grateful for them, as painful as the endings were.  I wish them the best in their respective journeys.  They are two major components in my life story and ultimately what started the fire.

In 2011 I struggled with my faith.  I discovered that I wanted to believe in happy endings and deep healthy forever friendships, but that I didn’t really.  Maybe I haven’t judged myself worthy of those things, but I’m going to keep digging for that key to unlock the door to self-love and acceptance.  I learned to believe in people again, I fought to believe in myself.  I disappointed myself on several occasions and then I made up for it later.  I stood up for what I believe in and I learned to stand up for myself.  I struggled with security, financially and otherwise.  I learned that the only person I can ultimately depend on is me, so I’d better take care of myself.  I marinated in grief and despair alternating with joy and wonder and increasing compassion for the human condition.  I struggled with my past, beat myself up for things that had nothing to do with me, excavated around some old patterns and beliefs, left some behind, lost my abilities to think and feel, and found them again.    I felt, on several occasions, who I want to be.  She’s closer than I think, if I allow her to integrate and stay out of my head.  I cursed the Universe when I couldn’t see the path ahead and cried great heaving sobs of grateful understanding when the blinders came off.

It seems everything I thought I knew, everything I thought I had a handle on, everything I was comfortable with, went up in smoke in the last year and I’ve been frantically rebuilding while the fire was still burning at the foundations of me.  I’ve stopped construction now until the new blueprints get here.  What I do have is a lot of space to work with, a basic idea of what I want this to look like when it’s finished and hope.  I hope when it’s done I don’t fill it with junk, and baggage and pain again.  I hope I make better choices for the new owner, that she can settle in and relax knowing that she has a new foundation and that her house was built with the best intent, best materials and workmanship possible.  I hope it’s somewhere she can be the best version of herself and live the rest of her life making a better story.  I hope she’ll be happy here, and generous, and accept love and laughter into her life like oxygen, free and vital to her survival.  I hope she’ll grow a beautiful chaotic garden for herself, a place where she can thrive and grow unapologetically into the divine earth goddess/healer/teacher/lover/friend she is meant to be.  I hope she continues to believe in herself, I hope she finds love that lasts, and I hope that she has no regrets, ever.